


Insert cliché priest-kink fiction title

by zation



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A little, Bed Humping, Blasphemy, Blow Jobs, Confessions, Destiel - Freeform, Dirty Talk, First Time, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Kinda..., Loss of Innocence, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Beta Read, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Priest Castiel, Priest Kink, Religious Content, Sex in a Church, Very mild dubious consent, Virgin Castiel, confessional booths, inappropriate use of religious content, semi-public sexual acts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 15:48:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3575004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zation/pseuds/zation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester just moved to town and was only going to attend church this once, to get his brother to shut the hell up if nothing else. So he went for the nagging to stop but he stayed for the blue-eyed priest with the voice made for sex.</p><p>Or,</p><p>The one where Dean fucking needs to hit that and where innocent Castiel has nowhere to run. Sexual hijinks ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Insert cliché priest-kink fiction title

**Author's Note:**

> I am not catholic and in no way religious and yet here I am, writing this… Please forgive me for any and all mistakes in regards to the religious content and confessionals, Google will only get you so far!  
> Or don’t forgive but at least enjoy the porn, that was after all the purpose of this! 
> 
> Toodles <3

  
  


### 1.

  


Dean had wanted the man from the first time he had laid eyes on him. And it was driving him crazy.

Sammy had married Jess, they had moved into a little quaint house in a surprisingly small town for a big shot lawyer and Sam had since then not once in all of the three years stopped nagging Dean to settle down as well. So Dean had done what every good-hearted big brother does and ignored his little brother. Problem was, Sammy was one persistent bastard and unfortunately so was his wife. So Dean, God help him, had given in and had now been living in this hick town for almost six months.

Truth be told it wasn’t so bad. The town had two pubs, one that served food and one that was only open on the weekends. Dean had had no problem finding a job as a mechanic and the people seemed nice enough. He already had a few friends here since his visits to Sam and Jess so he wasn’t really alone either. A little sexually starved perhaps but there was a bigger town just a forty minute drive away and that town even had a gay bar so that was fine. Dean was doing good.

Except he was not. Dean _had_ been doing good. For all of three months before Jess had managed to convince him to come to church with her and Sam on Sundays. He had taken a distinct dislike to all things religious since the church in his old town had all but excommunicated him for being gay so call him an asshole or whatever but he felt a little skittish about entering a new one. Sammy assured him that it wasn’t so here, though. Or probably wouldn’t be. _If_ he decided to tell anyone, but that wouldn’t be a problem because Dean was perfectly fine the way he was thank you very much.

Until he saw that man. The hair, the eyes, the slim fingers that moved gracefully when he talked and _the way he talked_. Dean had almost creamed his pants during the first mass he had attended. Yes, Father Castiel was perfection all wrapped up in unavailability.

Since that first Sunday Dean had come to all of the following. Father Castiel was unfortunately not the only priest in the church that held mass and they liked to switch around with no real schedule to it, making every Sunday a regular Russian Roulette of blue balls for Dean.

Every time Father Castiel held the sermon Dean would become unbearably hard in now time and afterwards he would fucking push little ladies out of the way on his way to the bathroom. Jacking off in a public restroom — in the _church’s_ restroom — felt much better than it should have.

Every time Father Castiel _didn’t_ hold the sermon Dean was left an angry mess. He still caught glimpses of the man, though, as the priest walked along the pews, smiling at the rest of the parish and from time to time stopping to talk to someone in need. Dean had often thought of what would happen if he appeared "in need". Would Father Castiel take him back to his office for some council? Once there had been a woman three rows in front of the one that Sam, Dean and Jess had been sitting on who had broken down crying when Father Michael had talked about losses. Her son or whatever had died recently and Father Castiel had taken her gently by the elbow and led her away, talking soothingly to her. Fuck, Dean envied her. Wished he had something to be sad about. Other than his balls exploding, that was. Somehow he suspected that that wouldn’t count. Shit, Father Castiel was such a perfect little priest he would probably not even bat an eye and just recommend Dean see a doctor. So Dean did nothing.

Then this happened. Spring-time happened and Father Castiel announced one sermon that he would start helping Father Michael and Father Raphael with confessions. Every Wednesday and Friday between 4 p.m. and 8 p.m. would be his opening hours. Dean had almost laughed out loud with relief.

He had been desperately trying to come up with a reason for coming to see Father Castiel but fuck, everything he’d thought about had sounded too conspicuous. Sammy would definitely know something was up but this, this was fucking _awesome_. Dean got off work at 5 p.m. on Fridays and he usually spent time at the pub after that, who would know if he ditched that and came here instead? No one, that’s who.

True, he wouldn’t really be alone with Father Castiel. They would be in those little wooden boxes and they would be separated by a wall and anyone walking past would hear them. Or maybe not hear them per say as the confessions were supposed to be confidential but if they were to get loud enough Dean supposed it would carry in the otherwise quiet church. Still, he would have Father Castiel’s undivided attention and that thought alone had him uncomfortably hard in seconds.

  
  


*****

  
  


Friday couldn’t come quick enough that week and even the guys at work got agitated with Dean’s absentmindedness. So much so that they sent him home half an hour earlier. Dean didn’t mind, he used that time to rub one out in the shower before heading off to church. Better not to get too eager in there.

As predicted, the church was seemingly deserted. Probably not that many that fancied a confession on a Friday night, even though Dean suspected the priests had hoped to lure some of the pub-dwellers over to them. Well, they had succeeded in one case at least.

Dean quickly made his way over to the confessional booths. The one designated for the priests were closed and looked locked. Dean smirked and opened the other door and slid inside. When he closed the door he felt like he was in a little world of his own. The little bench he was sitting on was padded and he wondered just how soundproof these boxes actually were. It was pretty dark inside and he supposed that was the point. Deal with your sins in the dark and bask in the light afterwards or whatever.

Then the little hatch to his right slid open to reveal the other side, or whatever he could make out of it through the netted opening. He couldn’t actually see much, just the hint of someone sitting there. Then:

"Welcome, child."

Dean shuddered and was suddenly _very_ glad for the dim light. "Thank you Father Castiel." He managed to press out without sounding too dimwitted. "I hope I’m not disturbing you?"

Father Castiel actually chuckled at that, low and throaty and Dean’s dick twitched in his jeans. Treacherous, lecherous little asshole. "Of course not, son, what can I do for you?"

"I-ah…" he cleared his throat. He didn’t really have everything planned out. Just wanted the attention and to talk. So he decided to go along with it. "I wish to confess my sins."

The silhouette on the other side nodded. "That is good to hear. Only through contrition can we hope to absolve ourselves of our sins."

"Ah, yes. That." Dean clenched his hands on his thighs. God, hearing Father Castiel this close up made Dean’s lower regions burn with a fire that licked up and down his spine. The voice was rich and deep, gravelly and smoky. Whisky and sex. It was downright pornographic and so very inappropriate for a priest. It made it hotter, of course, because reasons.

"Where do you wish to begin?" Father Castiel said suddenly, mirth present in his voice and Dean realized with a start that he had been quiet for too long.

"Um…" he squeaked out unintelligently. Man, no guy had ever made Dean so hard in so little time. He felt like he was fourteen again and making out with two years older star quarterback Dick Roman. He really thought he’d moved past that time but Father Castiel just brought it out again. With just talking! Dean really needed to have a serious talk with his cock.

"How about you tell me about the sin you have on your mind right now?" Father Castiel suggested and Dean gulped.

"Lust." He rasped out and if he didn’t know better he’d think he’d heard a little hitch in the priest’s breath before he continued talking.

"This is a very common sin, child. Are you married?"

"No Father." Dean answered and put the palm of his right hand against his hard dick, just to feel a little pressure. "But I want someone I can’t have and it’s driving me insane."

The silhouette nodded again. "Thou shalt not commit adultery." Father Castiel intoned and fucking shit, that monotone voice was even hotter.

Dean leaned back and spread his legs slightly. "It’s…" he struggled to catch his breath. "It’s not adultery if neither of us are married, is it?"

"No." Father Castiel conceded. "Will you still say the act of contrition?"

Dean swallowed, needing to hear that voice. "I don’t know it." He admitted in a hushed tone and wasn’t even lying. "Will you…" he ground the heel of his hand against his erection. "Can you teach me?"

"Of course, child." Father Castiel answered, sounding very pleased with Dean and Dean involuntarily bucked his hips so very slightly at the tone. "We pray to our Lord: Oh my God…" he started, his voice steady and Dean shuddered under the weight of it. "I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee. I detest all of my sins because of Thy just punishments, but most of all because they offend Thee, my God, who are all good and deserving of all of my love. I firmly resolve with the help of Thy grace to sin no more and to avoid the near occasions of sin. Amen."

"Amen." Dean whispered out, having not actually registered the words, and rubbed his hand faster against his dick, Father Castiel’s voice ringing in his ears. Fuck, he needed to come.

"That is good my child." Father Castiel said and Dean nearly moaned at the word _good_. "Do you wish to continue with your confession?"

"I—" Dean bit his lower lip, barely preventing the groan that threatened to escape. He needed out, _now_. "I think that will be all for now."

"As you will."

Dean wanted so badly for that tone to be a disappointed one. Needed Father Castiel to need him too. "I have to go but I will be back next Friday."

"You are welcome here all days of the week my son."

"I know, but Fridays are yo—" he stopped before making a complete fool of himself. Fucking hell, with all his blood in his dick his brain wasn’t functioning correctly. "I guess I’ll see you at mass as well." He hastened to say before he practically hurdled himself from the booth and ran down the lines of pews to the restrooms.

His dick was hard enough to hammer nails and he barely had time to rip his jeans open before he was coming in thick spurts, managing to get some of it in the sink and the rest on the wall beside it. Fuck yes, he wasn’t even sorry. He was definitely doing this again.

  
  


*****

  
  


"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."

It was one week exactly since Dean’s first confession and he had spent it jerking off and researching how confessions actually were supposed to go. Didn’t want to make a fool of himself again, even if it in hindsight had been pretty hilarious.

Mass that Sunday after his confession had been the best as well. Father Castiel had been the attending priest and he had evidently taken Dean’s confession to heart because the sermon had mainly been about temptation. Dean had loved it, had been smirking up at older man so much that even Sam had wondered what the hell his problem was. Dean had just shushed him and berated him for swearing in church. Jess had thought that was adorable but Sammy’s bitch-face told him his little brother knew he was up to something. Well, it didn’t really matter. Dean was on a mission now and not even the damn apocalypse would stop him. He had even taken the time to stop on the way out and wait in line with everyone else to press Father Castiel’s hand and thank him wholeheartedly for his sermon. If Father Castiel recognized Dean’s voice he made no outward appearance of it but he smiled broadly and shook Dean’s hand with a firm grip. Dean had used that hand to jack off that night.

Now it was Friday again and Dean once again found himself in Father Castiel’s confessional booth. Unfortunately he hadn’t been able to dodge the guys at work when they’d wanted to drag him to the pub so he had come here a little late and quite plastered. Or very, very plastered. Damn it all, he had been so good reading up on what to say and stuff and now he was going to ruin it and he wasn’t even sorry. Was already hard.

"Confess your sins before the Lord, my child, and—"

"Dean."

"I’m sorry?"

Dean palmed his erection lazily, getting comfortable on the bench. "My name’s Dean. We shook hands last Sunday." He offered, as if he had been the only one. But Father Castiel nodded on the other side of the screen.

"Of course. You joined our parish just this year, I remember. What can I do for you, Dean?"

Oh, fuck. Dean bit his lower lip. Why did everything sound so damn pornographic coming out of the priest’s mouth?

"You… You know of me?"

"I do, we don’t get too many new faces around here and your brother and his wife are devout members of our flock. I was very pleased when he told me he had managed to convince you to come. To church."

Dean’s hips bucked up hard into his hands at that. Why the hell had there been a pause there?! Was Father Castiel aware of it? Did he do it on purpose? How much could he see through that screen? Fuck, Dean wanted nothing more in that moment than for Father Castiel to rip open the door to Dean’s booth and fucking _watch_ Dean jerk off.

"I didn't want to at first." Dean pressed out and he wasn’t even sure he managed to keep the arousal out of his voice. "But I’m glad I did."

"That is good." He heard Father Castiel shifting on his seat. "Which sins do you wish to confess tonight, Dean?"

"Um… I…" Dean made a split-second decision. "Curiosity?"

"You sound unsure."

And Father Castiel sounded amused to Dean’s drunken and aroused mind. "I don’t know if it’s a sin or not."

"I suppose it would depend on the nature of your curiosity. What have you been wondering about?"

"Priests." Dean grunted out and palmed his dick hard through his jeans.

"Come again?"

Oh, hell no. Was he fucking kidding with that shit? Dean had to take several deep breaths through his nose before he managed to calm down enough to talk. His dick was so hard he wanted nothing more than to take it out. The need to touch, to squeeze and to thrust was so insistent that it pounded through Dean’s body faster than his blood.

"What’s it like to be a man of the cloth, Father?"

"Fulfilling."

"Do you…" Dean gulped audibly and gripped the base of his dick through his jeans. "Did you have to take a vow of celibacy?"

Father Castiel shifted again and Dean’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he strained to see through the net. "We don’t _have_ to, but I did." Father Castiel admitted and Dean’s dick jumped, just like he had anticipated, but the pressure around the base prevented it from getting out of hand.

"Isn’t it difficult?" smooth, he commanded himself, avoiding the obvious pun.

"It is."

Dean wanted to moan at that but swallowed it down. "Is that why your sermon was about temptation last Sunday?"

Father Castiel actually seemed to flounder a bit at that and Dean began palming his erection again, unable to hold back any longer. "I…" Father Castiel cleared his throat and the sound was such a rumble that Dean arched off the bench, his orgasm burning hot in his lower spine, just teetering there on the edge.

"Or was it because of my confession, Father?" Dean asked, his voice sultry now with his orgasm moments away. "Was it only for me?"

"Lots-lots of people struggle with temptation." Father Castiel interjected, sounding nervous as hell all of a sudden and Dean suspected his cover was pretty much blown.

"What about you Father?" Dean all but moaned, not fucking caring anymore. "Do you struggle with any temptation? Food? Wine? _Lust?_ "

"You—" Father Castiel raised his voice and Dean knew he had hit home. Fuck, his little innocent priest may not be as innocent as he’d thought. The thought drove Dean over the edge and he spilled come all over his underwear, coming hard enough for his whole body to shake against the bench. He hoped Father Castiel could feel it on the other side of the wall.

"You will recite the act of contrition and ten Hail Mary." Father Castiel scolded him in a loud voice and Dean wondered if he could smell Dean’s spunk all the way over there. The smell was certainly heady enough in here.

"Yes Father." Dean mumbled, sated and limp on the bench.

"And you _will_ learn respect for the cloth, Dean Winchester."

Dean actually smiled a little at that and recognized that he probably would feel horrible about this tomorrow when the effects of the whisky had run its course.

"Yes Father." He repeated and picked himself up on wobbly legs. "Amen."

  
  


### 2.

  


It was Friday night again and in only two short weeks Castiel had come to despise the weekday. Or, rather, after last week, he dreaded it.

He had been looking forward to the confessions, to be able to help his parish and his fellow priests and it had been going so well too. Then Dean Winchester happened and everything turned to ashes. He had known Dean spelled trouble the moment he had walked into the church with his lively green eyes and soft-looking lips. He was exactly the kind of man that had had Castiel running to the safety of the cloth to begin with. Dean was trouble and sin and _sex_. Castiel wanted no part of it.

And he had been so happy, too, that first time that Dean had come to confession. Dean had actually seemed to be aware of the trouble he was spelling and he had acted _contrite_. Castiel had been so happy for the man’s soul.

And then there was last Friday.

The second he had slid open the little hatch to reveal the screen he had smelt the alcohol that wafted through. Dean had reeked of it and, God help him, he had reeked of other things too. Things Castiel had never thought he would recognize but his body had helpfully provided him with the information that Dean was not only drunk, he was also _sexually aroused_. Yes, thank you very much, loins.

Then Dean had started talking about Castiel’s vow of celibacy and of course everything had gone straight down the drain after that. He was actually pretty sure Dean had ejaculated in the booth but there was no evidence of it when Castiel went to check later. Either Dean had cleaned it up or he had spent himself in his pants.

Castiel had been horrified to feel his body respond to that image. It was bad enough that his lower regions had been burning from hearing Dean’s husky voice but to actually stand there in his priest robe and feel his sex fill up with blood just at the thought of the man pleasuring himself had been too much. Castiel still blushed at the memory.

And yet here he was again. He couldn’t — wouldn’t! — cancel his confessions. He needed to help his parish and if he gave back enough to the community he could be forgiven his sins, he believed. Unfortunately, that meant he very well couldn’t refuse someone a chance at salvation. He desperately wished, however, that Dean would just choose another day to confess his sins. Castiel was sure Father Michael or Father Raphael would be more than happy to help.

Castiel hadn’t said anything to them, however, mostly because he didn’t want to admit that he was having problems. He was the youngest and newest priest and he wanted to let them know that they could count on him. It didn’t help him wincing when the door to the other booth opened, however. And he bit his lip when he heard Dean on the other side.

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned."

Castiel was beginning to think Dean was singling him out. He probably knew Castiel wasn’t as experienced as the other two priests and he was testing him. Yes, this was surely a test sent to him by the Lord.

"You’re supposed to ask for forgiveness, child." Castiel chided before he could help himself. To his dismay, Dean chuckled.

"This sin feels like a blessing though."

Castiel frowned. "No sin is a blessing."

"Not even in disguise?"

"Never." Castiel took a deep breath. He shouldn’t let Dean get him so riled up. "What can I do for you, my son?" he asked and was pleased with himself that he had managed to revert back to his stoic tone. _Sin of Pride_ , he berated himself and took a mental note to deal with it later.

Dean sighed but didn’t sound unhappy. At least he didn’t smell like alcohol this time. "It’s the lust thing again, Father."

"Thou shalt not covet."

"I know, but this man is so…" Castiel glanced at the screen and could see Dean fisting the air and shaking his head. "He’s the hottest thing I ever saw and I’ve missed him."

"Did you…" Castiel frowned. "Did you say _man_?"

"Where were you at mass this Sunday, Castiel?"

Castiel decided to overlook the obvious slip. "I was here, of course."

"I didn’t see you."

Castiel blushed and was happy Dean couldn’t see. Of course Dean hadn’t seen him because he had been hiding form the other man. So shameful.

"Did you say man, Dean?" he asked again and saw with dread that Dean leaned closer to the screen.

"Yeah." He breathed. "Does that bother you?"

Castiel swallowed. "It is frowned upon by the church but—"

"But what do _you_ think, Cas?" Dean asked and his voice was so deep, so breathless and Castiel could almost see Dean’s right arm moving in a jerking motion.

To his utter horror he could feel his penis starting to swell beneath his robes. He desperately tried to shift his clothing around but it only made it worse.

"I-I…" he coughed to clear his throat and took a deep breath. "I think love is limitless." He stated with the most indifferent tone he could manage. Dean thumped his head against the wall that separated them and _moaned_. Castiel bit his lower lip.

"Have you ever thought about it?" Dean asked and Castiel was sure he could see the other man’s arm speed up.

"Of course not." Castiel lied and pulled at his robes to get the pressure off his sex.

"It’s a sin to lie, isn’t it, Father?"

"It is." Castiel whispered out and Dean leaned heavily on the wall, breathing deeply through his mouth. Panting, that was it. Dean _panted_.

"This was not how I envisioned my confessional tonight." He revealed and Castiel had to bite his lip when spikes of pleasure shot through him. Never in all his years had he experienced a need as urgent as this. "Talk to me, Cas."

"It’s Father Castiel." Castiel pressed out, desperate when he found his voice thick with arousal. He wondered if Dean could hear.

"Forgive me, _Father_." How did he manage to make even that word sound sinful?! Castiel would never be able to hear anyone say it again.

"The Lord will judge you and forgive you, child." He heard Dean groan and he frantically spread his legs. Anything to get friction away from his engorged penis but it _wasn’t working_. He needed to touch.

"I love it when you call me ‘child’." Dean grunted out. "Makes me feel emasculated."

"And that’s a good thing?"

"With you it is." Dean groaned again, deeper, more urgent. "I’m close, Father, _please_ talk."

"You…" Castiel was frustrated beyond belief, in more ways than one. Was Dean actually going to orgasm here? Again? _Now?_. "You should show this church more respect Dean Winchester."

"Yes." Dean moaned but somehow Castiel didn’t think he was agreeing.

"I asked you to respect the cloth but you have done nothing but disregard my request." He stated heatedly, getting more angry now.

"Yes." Dean hissed again. "Would-would you say I’ve been bad?"

"Very bad." Castiel agreed firmly and the wall rattled when Dean thumped his head against it again. "You should be a man and accept your penance."

"Yes, Cas, _punish_ me."

Castiel whipped around and completely faced the screen. "I told you to call me _Father Castiel_."

"Oh, God."

"Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain."

"I… Not in vain, I… _Fuck_."

Castiel could see Dean’s whole body shake with the force of his orgasm and he was powerless to tear his eyes away from the sight. Dean was slumped over and even though the sight was severely impaired by the screen’s net he could clearly imagine what he didn’t see.

A new wave of arousal, so strong that is tore his breath away, crashed over him and he stood up forcefully. His penis rubbed against his pants and robes and it was _delicious_. And sinful.

"I sincerely hope you didn’t get any of that filth in the booth." He said, trying his best to sound disgusted but to his dismay Dean just moaned pitifully, making his erection twitch.

"Don’t worry, Father."

"I always do, child. I will pray for your soul." He hastened to leave the confessional without even bothering to give out penance.

  
  


*****

  
  


Castiel was startled awake in the dead of night when pleasure burned in his body, too hot for him to stay asleep anymore. With dread he realized that his penis was hard as a rock and leaking like a faucet. It was trapped between his flat stomach and the thin mattress of his bed and with his hips pressed so firmly against the resistance beneath it wasn’t difficult to figure out that he probably had been humping the bed.

One of his hands were clamped around the edge of his narrow bed and the other had gripped his pillow so hard his knuckles were white. The pleasure was like a fire that emanated from his groin and spread throughout his whole body, licking and egging him on. His breath came out in a broken sob when he involuntarily rocked his hips down.

He was so humiliated he could barely breathe. This hadn’t happened to him once since he’d taken the cloth. Once in his youth, before he learned to control his body’s cravings, but it had never been this bad before. This was all because of Dean Winchester. That damned man with his sparkling green eyes and sinful lips.

The memory of Dean pleasuring himself in the confessional just next to Castiel made Castiel’s body press down into the mattress once again. He jerked and mewled at the sensations. Startled he clamped a hand over his mouth and hastily raised himself to his knees to get away from the friction. He didn’t think his brothers could hear him but he didn’t even want to have to contemplate the notion in the morning. His involuntary actions scared him because if he couldn’t control himself when he was awake then there was no telling what he would do in his sleep. What he already had done.

He stayed on his knees, his penis hard and heavy in the confines of his underwear, and raised his hands to lean on the underarms and clasp his hands in prayer.

"Forgive me, Lord, for I am weak." He whispered out, his lips dry and his throat parched. "My flesh is weak and the temptations are many and strong."

His penis quivered when the prayer brought new images of Dean to his fevered mind. Dean smiling, Dean winking, Dean pumping his hand in that sinful way. Castiel hadn’t been able to see, of course, but his mind could clearly imagine it. Dean’s strong hand wrapped around his own arousal, hard and flushing.

"No." Castiel groaned out, desperate to find his penis twitching and leaking even without any friction to talk about. But the onslaught of images wouldn’t stop. "Father who art in heaven, forgive me, forgive me."

Dean talking in that sultry voice, Dean touching, would touch Castiel in that way of his. Would run his slightly calloused hands all over Castiel’s pliant body.

"No, no, no." He sobbed brokenly as he felt his orgasm draw closer. He wasn’t even touching! Was he so weak? His penis hurt.

Dean jerking Castiel penis. Dean on his knees behind Castiel as Castiel was now. Would reach around and grab Castiel and would press his own hard-on against Castiel’s exposed rear.

"Forgive me." He gasped out and desperately pressed his pelvis down onto the bed as his penis released. His ejaculate shot out in hard, warm spurts, coating his stomach and bed and he groaned deeply, hiding his face in the pillow. It felt _so good_. Felt like years of pent up frustration and felt like _sin_. Delicious, delicious sin.

He rubbed his hips down long after he had come down from his high and his penis had become too sensitive, secretly loving the feel of sliding through his own ejaculate.

  
  


### 3.

  


Okay, so Dean was feeling quite bad about what had happened last Friday. Don’t get him wrong, he was also feeling _awesome_ , but still. What he had done that time he had been drunk was one thing. Being drunk often equaled being stupid and kind of disgusting, at least when it came to him. But last Friday…

He had gone to confessional to talk to Father Castiel. To maybe beg forgiveness and to actually reveal why he was acting like a douche. Seriously, by now Father Castiel probably thought Dean was doing this to tease the priest for his vows. Which of course was only half true.

But instead of that he had gone and done… _that_. Had actually openly masturbated while talking to the priest. How low could he get? Pretty low, apparently… Man, Father Castiel hadn’t even looked his way on the Sunday sermon. Had just shuffled down the pews and pointedly _not_ looked at Dean. Somehow this was worse than not even seeing the priest at all and Dean was determined to talk to the priest now and explain. It probably wouldn’t make it better, though, would most likely only make it worse. But he really felt like he owed the poor priest an explanation anyway.

That was why he found himself, for the fourth Friday in a row, taking a seat in the confessional booth. He cleared his throat and spoke with trepidation when Father Castiel slid the hatch to the side, revealing his silhouette.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."

Father Castiel actually snorted. It sounded hilarious. "I’d say." He muttered and Dean couldn’t help smiling.

"What was that?"

"Tell me your sins, son, so that the Lord may judge you wisely."

Dean’s dick, of fucking course, jumped at that monotone voice. He swallowed. _Not now._ "I have lusted, Father."

Father Castiel’s silhouette nodded. "And are you contrite?"

"Not usually." Dean took a deep breath. "But after my last confessional I was."

"Will you say the act of contrition with me?"

"Why, are you contrite as well?" Dean smirked but the smirk died when he saw the silhouette stiffen. It was hard to tell, of course, but he was studying the other man so closely that he didn’t miss the priest’s breath hitch nervously. "Are you?" he pressed, suddenly heated beyond belief and having completely forgot what he had come to say in the first place. "Have you done something you shouldn’t have?"

"No."

"Lying is a sin." Dean stated, taking note that this certainly wasn’t the first time he had had to say so to this particular priest. Shit, he was already hardening.

"Of course." Father Castiel agreed, much too stoically for Dean’s liking. "I have prayed for my sins and I have worked past them."

"What sins?" Dean said breathlessly and Father Castiel stiffened again.

"We are not here to talk about me, Dean, we are here to help you deal with _your_ sins."

Dean palmed his painful erection. The effect this man was having on him would be frightening if Dean didn’t love it so much. "But my sins involve you."

"I am aware." Father Castiel sighed deeply and somehow even that was made sexy in Dean’s mind. "I shouldn’t have let you continue last time. I have prayed for that as well."

"I didn’t mean like that, Father." Dean said lowly, almost moaned. "The man I am lusting after…"

"Yes?"

"It’s you." Dean confessed, moaning for real this time and he definitely heard the gasp from the other side of the wall. "Ever since the first time I saw you, Cas." He continued, fueled by arousal and Father Castiel’s apparent confusion. "I can’t stop thinking about you. Your eyes, your hands, your lips." He groaned as his words made his dick jump. "Your _voice_."

"Dean, please."

"Yes, yes Cas, anything."

"Please stop." Father Castiel sounded pained and Dean’s heart ached for him even as his dick leaked with the desperate sound of the priest’s delicious voice. Not surprisingly, his dick won out.

He pressed closer to the wall, peering in through the net and thought he saw Father Castiel hunched over in his seat on the small bench.

"I need you, Cas." He rasped out and Father Castiel jumped at the sound. "You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on, and I’ve been to Vegas." He could see that Father Castiel put a hand over his crotch and a perverse thrill ran down his spine.

"Please, no more."

"Are you hard, Cas?"

"Why are you doing this?" Father Castiel suddenly whipped around to face the screen and Dean could almost see his blue eyes sparkle with electricity. "Why are you tempting me like this? This… This is _sin_ , Dean!"

"I know." Dean growled. "And it’s awesome, Cas."

Father Castiel actually mewled at that and such a submissive sound coming out in a voice usually so demanding made things to Dean’s mind. Horrible things.

He shot out of his booth in a second and pressed close to Father Castiel’s. "Open the door, Father." He groaned out. There was a moment’s hesitation before he slammed his hand on the wall beside the door. "Open it or I will break it."

The lock clicked open a second later and he all but ripped the door from its hinges. Inside, Father Castiel sat huddled back on the bench, looking more frightened than Dean would have imagined. The sight made Dean’s pupils blow out in lust.

"Please refrain from damaging church property." Father Castiel asked in a thin voice and the sound made Dean burst into action again.

He stepped into the booth and slammed the door shut behind him. The booth was in no way built to accommodate two grown men and he had to crouch over Father Castiel’s smaller form. It made it even better.

"Are you church property?" he asked, his voice more hoarse than he had ever heard it himself.

"No." Father Castiel breathed and Dean immediately slunk to his knees between the priest’s already open legs.

"Good."

He wasted no time, ripping Father Castiel’s robes apart to reveal his black dress pants and the obvious bulge in them. Father Castiel was breathing hard through his nose and gripping the edges of the bench so hard his knuckles were white. Dean knew this was definitely pressing his luck but he couldn’t help himself; had to take a moment to just admire the sight before him. He licked his lips when the priest’s dick jumped under the scrutiny.

But when Father Castiel opened his delicious mouth to speak — maybe to protest — Dean hastened to move it along, reaching forwards and yanking on the belt.

Father Castiel let out a little breathless moan at the action and actually spread his legs wider. Fuck, Dean was so hard he could almost feel his dick digging itself through cloth and zipper alike.

He made short work of the belt, button and zipper and when he finally got a glimpse of the white of the priest’s underwear he let out a moan of his own and shuffled forwards on his knees, gripping Father Castiel’s hips to drag him down to the edge of the bench.

Father Castiel slapped a hand over his mouth when Dean bent down to mouth at his erection through the cloth of the underwear. Even though he understood why, Dean still hated not hearing the priest clearly.

"This your first blow-job, Father?" he asked huskily and rubbed circles against the priest’s hips with his thumbs. "This your first _anything_?"

"Y-yes." Father Castiel stammered and Dean groaned deeply, burying his head against the other man’s crotch.

"Don’t worry." Dean pressed out and hastily started pulling on the clothing, trying to get to the prize below as fast as possible. "Gonna take such good care of you, of your virgin cock. God, you’re beautiful."

"Don’t blaspheme." Father Castiel gasped out.

"Yes, Father." Dean mumbled and _finally_ managed to free Father Castiel of his clothes. He wasted no time, diving right in and swallowed the red head, swirling his tongue and groaning at the taste.

"O-oh!" Father Castiel almost shouted in surprise before slapping his hand back over his mouth.

Dean looked up at him through his lashes, wanted to look irritated at the priest hindering his own sounds but fuck, Father Castiel looked so good with his flushed cheeks and lust-blown pupils that he just barely resisted creaming his pants right then.

Fuck, the priest tasted like _man_ and it assaulted Dean’s senses. His scent, his taste, his sounds and shit, the feel of his fat cock in Dean’s mouth was almost too much. Dean sunk deeper down, taking as much as he could and thought the real sin was keeping this gorgeous dick under lock and key.

Father Castiel was mewling again and thrusting his hips against Dean’s hard grip. The taste of pre-come was heady on Dean’s tongue and he was loving it. He pressed his tongue against the underside of the cock on the way down and swirled at the head as he came up. Father Castiel was obviously enjoying himself and Dean knew he was already drawing close. The priest’s balls were hard as rocks and so far up his body they were practically inside him.

Dean popped off with the most obscene sound he could manage and smirked when Father Castiel groaned in desperation.

"Wanna fuck my face, Cas?" he asked, his voice hoarse from his throat getting assaulted and he loved it. Father Castiel stared wild-eyed at him. "Don’t give me that look. I can feel you thrusting against my hands." He leaned in and licked the priest’s dick. It jumped and practically slapped Dean on the cheek. He chuckled darkly and was rewarded with a shiver running through the other man’s body. "Wanna put a hand on my head, grip my hair and hold me down as you rut up into my mouth?" Father Castiel looked like he was about to cry from the need. Dean felt his own dick leak at that and he knew his own orgasm wasn’t far behind. "I want that too." He confessed and took Father Castiel’s unoccupied hand in his, loving the feel of the slim fingers, and put it on his head. "Do it."

Father Castiel hesitated for a second before his hand took a firm grip of the short hair on top of Dean’s head, his own head leaning back and his brilliant eyes closing. Dean hastened to put his mouth back on the man’s dick and Father Castiel thrust up as soon as he was inside. Dena groaned deeply and it seemed to spur the other man on.

This freed Dean’s hands and he was quick to reach down to open his jeans and shove one hand into them and grip his poor erection. He wanted nothing more than to pull it out completely but even he thought that creaming on the floor of the confessional booth would be pushing it. So he held his underwear in place with one hand even as the other flew over his dick with lightning speed.

Father Castiel was thrusting as uncoordinatedly as someone would expect of a person with his experience and it was delicious. His balls were drawing tight again, Dean could feel them against his chin on every thrust, and his breath was coming out in ragged pants. Dean’s hand sped up on his dick when he felt Father Castiel put his other hand on Dean’s head too, freeing his mouth to make the most beautiful sounds.

"Please." Father Castiel begged and Dean strained to open his throat up for him. "Oh please, Lord, forgive me." He sobbed brokenly and suddenly shot off the bench, clenching Dean to his crotch almost painfully.

His dick jumped and twitched as it spent itself deep down Dean’s throat and Dean swallowed as best he could, feeling his own orgasm ripping through him. He had to tear himself away when it happened and as he came all over his underwear and hand he groaned deeply, his head buried against Father Castiel’s softening dick, his chin smeared with the priest’s spunk.

They sat for a long while, panting and Father Castiel was actually petting Dean’s hair. Dean loved it and leaned into the touch but when he angled his head to lap the priest’s dick clean, Father Castiel jumped and jerked away.

"Please…" he swallowed hard and wouldn’t meet Dean’s eyes. "Please leave."

Dean was breathing hard again but from pain this time rather than arousal. He had known this was wrong. Had known this wasn’t supposed to happen but it had! And it had been awesome.

"Cas—" he started but was interrupted by Father Castiel’s hard glare which in no way was diminished by the spent dick laying between them. Shit.

"I am a man of the cloth and you _will_ respect me." He straightened in his seat and Dean shuffled back on his heels. "Now please leave my confessional."

"Yes, Father." Dean mumbled humbly and tried to suppress the hollowed feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to kiss Father Castiel so badly that it hurt.

  
  


*****

  
  


"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."

Father Castiel had held the sermon that Sunday and his eyes had been hard, his icy stare sweeping over the attending parish as he spoke heatedly of betrayal, vows and damnation. Dean wasn’t stupid — well, not _that_ stupid — he had known that Father Castiel was targeting him, even if he refused to look at Dean. Afterwards, he had glared Dean down when Dean had approached him and Dean had veered out of the way in the last possible second, walking out of the church with a bowed head and a confused Sam hot on his heels.

Man, he just wanted to talk to the priest. And not like last time. He had wanted to talk then too, explain himself, and he had, he supposed. But then he had fucked up. He wanted to apologize now more than ever. He should really leave the church and never come back… but he was weak. He still needed to see and to hear the priest. And he wanted to hold him so badly. Fuck, when had this changed from carnal lust to chick-flick smooch?

"Share your sins, my son, and let the Lord judge you accordingly."

Dean’s head jerked up at the sound of the other man. "Father Michael?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes, son?"

"Where’s Cas?"

"Who?" Father Michael chuckled in realization before Dean could answer. "You mean Father Castiel?"

"Yeah." He answered sheepishly.

"I’m sorry to say he won’t be available tonight."

Dean worried his lower lip as the priest spoke. "Is he alright?"

"I’m sure he is, my child, but it is considerate of you to ask. He came to me this afternoon and explained that he was feeling ill, asking if I could fill in for him."

"Ill?" Dean asked stupidly. "What’s wrong?"

"It’s hard to tell, he looked fine but not all illnesses are of a physical nature, are they?"

Dean wondered just how much this old fart actually knew and he got even more nervous. As if it wasn’t enough that Father Castiel was obviously avoiding Dean, now he had to worry if his actions had ruined the priest for this church. Maybe he would even leave the parish, be stronger than Dean could be and just walk away. Suddenly he had to see him.

"Where is he?"

"Father Castiel?" Father Michael asked, obviously confused. Confused enough to answer, it seemed. "Last I saw him he was still in his office but I’ll imagine he would be in his quarters by now. Why do you ask?"

Dean was already on his feet. "I’m sorry, Father, next time."

"What about your confession, son?" Father Michael asked hurriedly and Dean turned in the door to the booth.

"I’ll manage ‘til next time. Ten Hail Mary or something like that, right?" he didn’t wait for an answer as he dashed up the rows of pews. He didn’t know the way, of course, and he was worried both for Father Castiel and that Father Michael would follow him so he opened the first door he spotted and found himself in the sacristy. Groaning, he turned and ripped the next one open. This door led to a hallway and he followed it without qualms. The hall was lined with door and he was so relieved when he saw them having little name tags that he almost missed the one that read _"Castiel Novak"_.

He skidded to a halt and took a deep breath before looking around quickly to find himself thankfully alone and then knocking tentatively on the door.

There was a moment of silence before he heard Father Castiel answering and he opened the door, peeking inside timidly only to see a small office with the priest seated behind a wide desk. Father Castiel’s eyes rounded out in surprise and Dean quickly slid inside and closed the door behind his back before the priest could protest.

"Dean." Father Castiel said, his voice a mixture of surprise and trepidation and Dean ducked his head. "What are you doing here?"

"Father Michael said you were sick."

"I-I—"

"You’re avoiding me." He looked up to find the priest still behind his desk but standing now. He looked pained and cautious. It made Dean’s heart clench.

"Yes."

Wow, okay, that admission hurt like a bitch. Even though he knew it was coming, Dean couldn’t really prepare himself for it. He huffed out a painful breath and looked down again.

"I’m sorry." He said pitifully and never noticed Father Castiel stepping in front of his desk.

"I’m avoiding you because I don’t trust myself around you. Not after last time."

Dean’s head shot up at that and when his eyes met the priest’s blown pupils he felt his knees grow weak. Fuck, the man looked even more delicious than normal. His robes were gone and he was in only a pair of black pants and a black button down, his white priest’s collar a stark contrast and a constant reminder of the taboo.

"I thought it was me you didn’t trust." He said, his voice shaky and Father Castiel nodded.

"That too. But I am to blame here. _I_ took sacred vows, _I_ serve the Lord and _I_ should be the one to lead you _away_ from temptation." He looked away and Dean tried desperately to control his breathing. "And yet I find myself yearning for you. For your touch, your body." He looked up and his eyes pierced Dean’s. "Your soul."

"C-Cas." Dean stuttered out, his whole body on fire and his legs like jelly when he dashed the few steps up to the priest. He stopped just short of the man, just a few inches from where he wanted to be. Father Castiel was looking at him with such raw _want_ that Dean wondered if it was intentional. He hoped not.

"I can’t…" Father Castiel cleared his throat. "I can’t keep away from you."

Dean took this as his cue to step even closer, putting his hands gingerly on the other man’s upper arms. "I hated that you sent me away after." He swallowed. "After Friday and after the sermon."

"I had to." Father Castiel whispered. "I had to for my sanity but it didn’t work." He put his hands on Dean’s chest and looked away, like he was ashamed of the gesture. Dean relished in the feeling of the man’s hands on him. "It hurts more trying to be angry with you."

"It hurts me too." Dean said lowly and leaned even closer. Father Castiel’s breath hitched.

"My-my vows." He stammered and Dean inhaled his scent before putting his hands on the priest’s hips instead. Father Castiel let him.

"You took vows to help your parish, Father." He said and tried to keep his body from trembling. "I am a member of your parish and I need help." He slid up and slotted their bodies together. Father Castiel moaned lowly when his erection met with Dean’s hip. Dean leaned down and put his lips against the priest’s ear. "I’m not doing this to tease you, I need you. _Please_."

Castiel’s arms snaked around Dean’s neck and he pulled him down so fast that Dean almost lost his footing. Their lips met in a crushing kiss, all teeth and tongue and _need_. It was inexperienced and the most perfect kiss Dean had ever had.

He gripped Castiel’s hips hard and rolled against him, making the priest groan into the kiss with the friction the action created. Dean was already hard but the priest was well beyond that first barrier, his erection straining painfully against his slacks and Dean wanted nothing more than to feel that hardness in his hand.

"Cas." He groaned and pushed the man back. Castiel whined in the back of his throat and actually slid up on the desk when his ass hit it, opening his legs for Dean to slot in-between. Dean followed willingly, gripping the man’s thighs to make him wrap his legs around Dean’s hips. "Cas, you’re killing me."

"I’m sure—" he nipped at Dean’s lower lip and arched into Dean’s heated body. "I’m sure that’s not true."

"Certainly feels like it." Dean muttered and snaked a hand down between them to make grabby hands at the priest’s cock.

"Oh, _Dean_." Castiel moaned throatily and Dean shuddered against him.

"I got you baby." He panted and all but ripped the man’s pants open but before he could get to his own he felt slim fingers on his zipper.

Castiel looked up at him through his lashes. "Is this okay?"

Dean’s mouth was too dry for him to answer so he quickly nodded instead. With more efficiency than Dean could’ve mustered, Castiel opened Dean’s jeans and stuck his hand inside. The both of them groaned when Castiel’s hand made contact.

"It’s…" Castiel buried his face in the crook of Dean’s shoulder. "You’re so _hard_." He mumbled lowly.

"For you babe." Dean moaned against Castiel’s sweaty hair and slid his hand inside Castiel’s pants. Castiel arched his back and groaned brokenly against Dean’s skin when he gripped him hard. "Wanted to feel you for so long, Cas." He rasped out and Castiel bucked against him. "Here, let me." He shifted them around and then finally, fucking _finally_ , he felt Castiel’s heated cock slide against his own.

"Oh my God." Castiel keened and Dean took perverse pleasure in making his priest blaspheme like this.

He put one hand against Castiel’s round ass and pressed him closer while leaning down over him, jerking their dicks together in an increasingly desperate pace.

"So beautiful, Cas." He moaned against Castiel’s plump lips and suddenly they were kissing again. Rough, urgent and utterly perfect.

"Not going to—" Castiel groaned when Dean swiped his thumb across their leaking heads. "Not gonna last."

"It’s okay baby." Dean panted against Castiel’s open mouth. "Just let go, I want it so bad." He kissed him again and Castiel pawed at his back as he tried to get even closer, their hips bucking against one another even as Dean’s hand worked them over. "Want you to come all over me. Cover me in it."

"D-Dean!"

"Want you, Cas, all of you." Castiel was shuddering and Dean saw tears of frustration spill from the corners of the man’s eyes. He bent forwards and licked them away. "Want you inside me, Cas. Pounding into me, claiming me. Making me _yours_."

Castiel shook as a high-pitched whine tore out of him and his dick jumped in Dean’s hand as it spilled over the both of them and Dean’s hand. Dean tried to angel it so that most of it landed on him but it was impossible with his own orgasm teetering _right_ there.

"So fucking hot, Cas." He babbled when the other man curled in on himself, cradling Dean to his shaking body and smearing spunk all over himself. "Need you, baby, need you always." He couldn’t think straight as the fire grew, its tendrils reaching every corner of his body and then suddenly he was there, tumbling over the edge and he had to bite down on Castiel’s shoulder to keep from screaming as his release pounded out of him.

He stood for a long while, just holding both of their limp dicks in his hand and loving it but also dreading the consequences. When he finally looked up he found Castiel staring at him with an undecipherable look.

"Shit, Cas, I…" he tried clearing his throat. "This wasn’t supposed to happen. Again." He felt foolish and stupid and also insanely relieved that Castiel hadn’t kicked him out yet.

"Please don’t apologize while still holding me like this." Castiel said and his voice was deeper than usual.

Dean swallowed. "I wanted to talk to you but I can’t control myself."

"Yes, well, you’re not the only one with that problem."

Dean smiled a little at that and his stomach fluttered when Castiel’s lips quirked up in response. "So does that mean you don’t hate me?"

"I’m a priest, forgiveness is in the job description." He actually smiled for real when Dean’s shoulders sagged and he put his arms around Dean’s neck. "But even if it wasn’t, I could never hate you, Dean."

"Yeah?"

Castiel pulled him down and pecked him shyly on the lips. "Though you have ruined me, Dean." He accused, his words undermined by the glint in his eyes. "I will be damned for all eternity because of you."

"I-I…" Dean didn’t know what to say. He knew the vows were sacred for priests and he knew he was in the wrong here and that Castiel had been very upset with his recent behavior and yet here he was, almost smirking at Dean. "I’m sorry?" he offered and Castiel narrowed his eyes at him.

"I should hope not." He said and Dean blinked stupidly at him. "You’ve robbed me of my piousness and innocence, don’t you _dare_ be sorry now."

Dean huffed out a nervous laugh at that. "I wouldn’t dream of it." He leaned down and this time the kiss was less shy and the urgency returned with it. "I wasn’t kidding, I do need you Cas."

"I’m starting to think I need you too."

Dean was ridiculously happy to hear that. "What will the Lord say? Thou shalt have no other Gods, after all."

Castiel pursed his lips. "Don’t blaspheme."

Dean leaned down and captured his lips again. "Sorry Father." He mumbled against them and Castiel actually shivered at that. "Like it when I call you ‘Father’ when we’re like this?" he asked and was rewarded with Castiel looking away in embarrassment. He chuckled darkly. "I _have_ ruined you."

"So we’ve established." Castiel muttered but when he looked back at Dean his pupils were blown once again and Dean would never admit it but his breath hitched at the sight. "So show me more. I will not abandon my calling but I cannot be without you. Show me why it would be worth my damnation."

Dean breathed deeply through his nose. "Baby." He pressed out and started lazily jerking them again when he felt Castiel fattening against his own growing hard-on. "We’re just getting started."

  
  



End file.
